Of guilty consciences and shitty godfathers
by Andromeda of Othrys
Summary: Sometimes, the right decision happens to be the one that is hardest to make. But when Teddy's future is the reason behind the decision, Harry is not allowed to make a wrong one.


**This a bonus round entry for the Slytherin House.**

 **Theme: Golden Era post-Hogwarts**

 **House Prompt: Sometimes, the right decision is the hardest.**

 **Personal prompt: He/she could bare to hold on no longer.**

 **Word count: 1,115 words**

* * *

It was just ridiculous how quickly your entire world could turn upside down, Harry mused as he watched the memorial stone rise next to the white marble of Albus Percival Wulfic Brian Dumbledore's grave – and yes, he bothered to remember every single part of the pretentiously long name of his dearly loved mentor. Master manipulator in some cases he may have been, but nobody could say he didn't try his abject best to protect Harry from the war, even if it meant actually hurting him more.

In fact, he came to talk with him for a moment. It seemed just stupid to talk to the unfeeling and cold marble when the old man's portrait hung in the Headmaster's Office only a few stories above, but in Harry's rather biased opinion, the mere imprint of the old Headmaster could never replace the real thing. If he wanted to be completely honest with himself, the portrait felt a little bit like a mockery, so the grave it was.

"Hey, Professor", he greeted, slightly uncomfortable. How do you address the dead man's tombstone? "It's been awhile. Sorry for not visiting you earlier: Tom had really been a royal pain in the behind. Between him hunting for me and me hunting for his Horcruxes… well. Visiting Hogwarts was one danger even this Gryffindor was not brave enough to face without a good reason." Here he chuckled.

"But I'm not here to apologize. Neither am I here to yell abuse at you, although I certainly feel like it from time to time. How many people could we have saved if I knew everything earlier? How many lives and families have Tom, you and I torn apart?" Harry paused to take breath.

"That was what I wanted to talk to you – or rather, at you – about. Do you remember Marauders? Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs? Well, you remember how they trusted everything with each other. That included their own children."

Harry didn't need to gaze up at the memorial stone to see two of the names emblazoned there:

 _REMUS JOHN LUPIN_

 _NYMPHADORA LUPIN-TONKS_

 _MAY 2_ _ND_ _, 1998_

They never failed to send a bolt of guilt through his heart. They died for him, leaving Teddy so alone…

"Moony – Remus – made me his son's godfather. Bloody hell, I'm barely of age; I don't know how to take care of myself properly, let alone a kid!" He sighed. "I thought for the longest time I should leave him with his grandmother Andromeda – he's the only family she has, it wouldn't be right to take him away. But he's my godson too, and I don't want him to remember me like I remember Sirius. What should I do?"

Harry didn't expect an answer, neither did he get one. He just needed to vent to someone that wasn't his fiancée or his best friends, someone who didn't try to be understanding and supportive. Right now, he only needed self-reflection and guilt-trip the size of Hogwarts. The late Headmaster was the master of the latter, Horace Slughorn being the prime example. Not many knew other people well enough to predict their reactions like Albus Dumbledore could.

"I know I'm being an utter prat, not going to visit my six-months-old godson, but I can't help it", he went on, all too aware of the tears sliding down his cheeks. "I see Tonks in his Metamorphagus abilities and Remus in his eyes – he really likes to keep them golden, and I'm indirectly responsible for their deaths. Yet, I want to go see him and tell him all the stories his father and Sirius told me about the Marauders, show him the Marauders' Map, tell him how and why his parents died… And I don't feel brave enough. I can't find it in myself to face Andy and Teddy. How did you face the children who lost their parents to Tom's madness?"

He knelt there for a while, just letting all the pain at losing his parents, Sirius, Remus, Tonks, Fred, D.A. members and every Order and non-Order member he could recall by either name or face wash through him.

For the first time in months, he let himself feel his own loss, and wept for it.

The tears were bitter, but silent; no one could see Harry Potter the vaunted hero cry. They still needed an image of him as unbroken, as brave and heroic, even when he felt miles away from it. But just Harry, the boy who had spent years outside of Wizarding World, who still had a hard time believing he was a wizard, someone special, he could cry all he liked.

Eventually he calmed down.

"You know, leaving the Elder Wand and the Resurrection Stone behind was easy. I never really wanted any sort of power, particularly not a power like that. Even allowing Tom to kill me wasn't difficult. This?" He sniffed, rubbing the remaining tears away. " _This_ is the most difficult decision I had to make in my entire life."

Harry Potter, the Chosen One, the Boy-With-Too-Many-Bloody-Titles stood up, turned on his heel and walked down to the entrance gates to the Hogwarts, where Ginny Weasley patiently waited for him.

"Got your head screwed on straight?" she asked him lightly.

Harry nodded with a shaky smile. "You can go on. Your mum will probably murder me, but I won't be at the dinner tonight."

Ginny merely smiled and gripped his shoulder in support.

"Have fun," she spoke as she let go of him, drew out her wand and tapped the necklace with the griffin pendant. "Burrow!"

She disappeared in a flash of light. Harry chuckled and spun on his heel, imagining the house he had landed in nearly a year ago with Hagrid.

With a deafening _crack!_ he Apparated in front of the house and rang the bell, wryly recalling Dumbledore's warning about the politeness of knocking and not kicking the door down. Outcast from the Black family she may have been, but Andy was certainly not a witch you messed with.

Andromeda Tonks nee Black opened the door, eyes tired and posture immaculate.

"Who – ?" Then she registered just who was standing at her door.

 _SLAP!_

"Ow!" Harry moaned, clutching his cheek.

"You took your sweet time, Mr. Potter!" Andy yelled. "Where were you?"

Harry opted for the absolute truth. "Off being an utter prat and shitty godfather," he answered, "who got a kick in his pants for behaving like that."

Andy's eyes flashed in approval.

"Good. Now get in, Teddy's been asking for 'his Unca Hawwy'."

And just like that, weight on his heart lessened, and Harry crossed the threshold of the Tonks home with a true smile on his face.


End file.
